Loves Lost in the Fog
by corikane
Summary: A nightmare-mission has Myka come apart. (Very angsty.)


Disclaimer: The characters of Warehouse 13 are not mine. I merely borrowed them for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Pete Lattimer had never seen fog like this. It was engulfing him and his partner, Myka Bering, and they were by now actually holding hands. Holding hands like two lost kids far away from home. Home was indeed far away and seemed to be on the other side of the world on this Friday afternoon in Nevada.

"So, Artie is sure this is artifact-related? I mean, could just be plain old fog, right?" He mumbled sartastically. They were standing on a street they could not see in a town that was practically in the desert surrounded by the meanest, thickest fog he'd ever seen, anyone had ever seen.

"I keep expecting to hear Jamie Lee Curtis' screams from somewhere in this mess," Pete groused on. Myka knew that her partner was nervous, he would always just keep on talking when something bothered him, scared him. Myka, though, would grow quiet, so that now they both knew they were both scared. And then they heard the voices. At first it was but a whisper in Myka's ear but she recognized the voice instantly by it's British lilt.

"Helena?" Myka's voice croaked as if from misuse but it had only been minutes since she talked to Pete. This fog made everything so desolate, so... eery. But the voice came again, louder this time:

"Myka, where are you?"

"Helena." And this time Pete heard his partner saying the name. He also felt the slight pull from Myka's hand into the wrong direction, away from him.

"Myka, what..." But then he heard his own ghost calling to him: Amanda.

"Pete, I can't see you." She whispered from yet another direction. Pete shook his head, heard Myka now desperately callling out to H.G. Wells, pulling ever stronger at his hand. The fog was so thick now he could barely see her. He couldn't let go of her, he knew, or they would lose each other forever but there was Amanda's voice and she sounded desperate to tell him something, and then there was the mission which would end this madness of a fog. And this must be his first priority. He felt Myka's grip on his hand losen, felt her slip away, her voice sounded desperate, choked with tears. The click was fairly audible even over the voice of Amanda, the more embodied voice of his partner. And then a second click and he had Myka secured to him via his handcuffs. Myka pulled at it but Pete pulled back, bringing them face to face. Pete put his left hand on Myka's shoulder.

"We need to keep going, Mykes," he said and could see Myka shaking her head.

"She's over there, I can hear her, Pete, I can hear her."

"And I can hear Amanda right over there." He pointed in the direction that was across from Helena's supposed position, as far away from one another as they could possibly be but would not be in at all. Somehow they both knew that but they also knew that Myka had always clung to hope where H.G. was concerned, and now that little voice of hope told her that Helena was feet away, just beyond the mist.

"I need to see her, Pete, I need to..." Her voice cracked as she burst into tears. Pete stepped closer, pulling his free arm around the distraught woman.

"I know, Mykes, I am sorry. But we need to keep going, it's the only way to end this." He felt Myka nod at his shoulder. She pulled herself up straight, looked back to where she could probably still here Helena's voice coming from and faced him again.

"Where were we going?" she asked then.

"To find that guy or girl, I guess, who caused this fog," he reminded her.

"I know, Pete, but... which direction?" They were talking in loud voices to each other, the fog now so thick it seeemd to swallow the sound.

Pete looked around himself. Where had they come from, where were they going? Then he remembered what Artie had given him before they headed out: a compass. He pulled it out of his pocket, Myka leaned in close.

"Okay, we entered town from the north-east and were going straight west... west... that direction." He pointed and they started walking again. Pete noticed Myka looking behind her every once in a while. He knew what she heard: Helena's voice. He knew because he could still hear Amanda's, it was taunting him, alternately promising him a second chance, cookies and comic books. He didn't even want to think what Helena was promising Myka or the kind of strength it took for her to keep going.

Twice they bumped into actual people who were as lost as they were, who were yelling for loved ones at the top of their lungs but could only be heard when they were practically run down by them. And still the fog seemed to get thicker. Pete wondered if at some point it would actually physically slow them down but then they came across the building. Myka had run into the mail box, that's how they had not missed it. It also seemed to be a kind of fog-epicenter, by now the whiteness around them was so thick they were practically blind with it. They tread carefully, stumbled over the porch steps and crawled to the door. They both pulled their weapons, to what effect neither of them could know. Pete had the tesla, Myka was holding her glock.

"You think maybe you should holster that again?" Pete asked. He put his face so close to Myka's ear he was touching it. But it was the only way to keep silent and still hear each other. Myka turned so that she could whisper to her partner:

"I would like to put a bullet into that guy for... all this." She said but Pete knew there was only one aspect of this that was torturing his partner and he could sympathize. Amanda's voice was still taunting him, now offering herself - dipped in chocolate sauce. He was usually a pretty balanced guy, but this? It was almost too much to bear. Almost.

"I could put a little more zing to the tesla, it's not like I could actually see how high I put it," he suggested. He felt Myka's hand at his face, carressing it.

"You're sweet," she told him and they both smiled. But just for a second then he felt Myka tense.

"I swear if she is saying this one more time... I'm going to shoot these cuffs and run... into nothing." Her voice was so bitter, so sad, Pete had to wonder what Helena was now saying to her. What kind of kinky fantasy was she suggesting that had Myka so on edge.

"Does it involve chocolate?" he asked before he could stop himself. Myka's head swivelled around so fast their faces actually collided.

"Does everything in your life involve food, Pete?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He answered and heard a faint laugh. They were practically face to face but her laugh sounded so far away. What would happen if this fog got any thicker? Would they become mute with its thickness, on top of blind? Would they cease to be able to move, and feel, and taste? Would they be taunted for the rest of their lives with visions of the women they loved, forever unable to reach them, be with them?

"We have to go.", Myka's voice came to him faint but it was exactly what he had been thinking as well. They still sat on the porch, Pete lifted one hand and after fumbling clumsily for a moment turned the doorknob. He pushed the door open, at least he hoped that he had done so because he could not acutally see the door or hear it opening. They stumbled into the house, seeing absolutely nothing but white. They fumbled for minutes, seeing nothing. Pete pulled Myka to a sudden halt, they had stumbled down a hall. He felt the vibe, he turned and without even knowing what he was shooting at he did so. The whiteness was breached by blue lightning but nothing followed, no scream, no thumb, nothing but the whiteness, the thickness, the dampness. But the vibe was over.

* * *

It was late when they finally reached the B&B, they stepped into the foyer like two lost orphans, they once again held hands. Myka had hardly let go of Pete since he shot the guy who had caused the fog. Sure, they were still handcuffed to each other but she had still grabbed him every now and then to reassure her he was still there, even after the fog had dissolved. And it dissolved quickly after they had snagged and tagged the foghorn that caused it all.

Claudia just came down the stairs as Pete put the container with the artifact on the table in the hall for Artie to get.

"Hey, guys. I thought you were staying the night in Vegas..." The last word was delivered suggestively but seeing the drawn faces of her friends sobered the techie. "You alright?"

"It was a long day," Pete said. Even his voice sounded unusually strained.

"Well, I can tell. Why don't I go and tell Leena to make some of her extra-special creamy hot chocolate?" Claudia wanted to slink out of the room feeling that Pete and Myka may have some issue to talk through or even just to not have to look at the way Myka clung to Pete's hand but Pete stopped her.

"I think I will do that. I need food, cookies, lots of cookies, now." He said. He turned to Myka and smiling apologetically he pulled his hand from hers. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, it was almost too sweet to watch. Myka tried a smile but she seemed shell-shocked, not at all herself. Pete went by Claudia and in search of Leena and cookies. Claudia stood awkwardly facing Myka who seemed to slowly gather her wits.

"Was it one of those bad missions?" Claudia asked unsure whether she even wanted to know the answer.

"The worst." Myka answered. She slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the wardrobe. As she turned she eyed the container with the latest artifact warily. She walked toward Claudia and hugged her fiercely. "There were moments I didn't think we would make it back, Claude," she confessed, tears stood in her eyes.

The younger agent was rattled. Myka was usually so sure that things were gonna work out, she trusted in her strength, knew that they would either pull or muddle through. Seeing her shaken, shook Claudia as well.

"What happened?" she asked tentatively.

"We were lost, we almost... I almost gave up." Her tears spilled now but she turned away and walked into the living room. Claudia followed. They both sat down, Myka pulled a thick comforter around herself. They did not talk until Leena and Pete came in, Pete carrying a tray with cookies and hot chocolate, Leena a glass with some amber liquid which she handed wordlessly to Myka. It was from the secret stash they had in the house for strictly medicinal purposes. No one at the B&B ever drank alcohol for recreational purposes, not wanting to be insensitive to Pete's abstinence. Myka now drank and as the warmth of the alcohol filled her more tears spilled over. She hid her face in her arms while Leena sat beside her and talked to her in her low soothing voice.

Claudia looked at Pete for help. He looked as forlorn as she felt but he took his cup with cocoa and one of the plates laden with cookies and got up. Claude followed his example and they went to Pete's room where Pete filled Claudia in on the events of the mission.

Myka, meanwhile, cried at Leena's shoulder. Hours passed until she finally went upstairs and to her room, her head pounding with the aftermath of all the crying. She didn't feel much better, the only thing that gave her a sense of safety was the fact that she was at the B&B, that she was with her family. But there was a part missing and the mission had ripped that wound wide open. Helena was that part and Myka felt like she was still lost in the fog and that she had missed her chance to find her.


End file.
